When the Best of Us Fall

"See you in a minute."

The empty space where they should have been standing hurt more than anything else should have.

Steve Rogers found himself staring at where she should have been standing, Barton alongside her, the Soul Stone in their possession. He expected to see Romanova's smile—a sight rarer these days than ever before—and for the woman to hold up the stone as proof of a successful mission.

Instead there was nothing.

The excited voices of his fellow time travelers died down as they looked around the broken circle, their gaze drawn to the empty space almost instantly.

Tony Stark looked down at the complicated controls of the Quantum Tunnel in confusion, as if he expected to find the answer to their absence there. In the pit of his stomach he could feel something twisting, telling him something had gone wrong, and it had not been on their end. All the same, he moved out of the broken circle, descending the ramp quickly, going directly to the console to see if there had been some change, some fluctuation in the Quantum Realm, some simple mistake that could rectify their nonappearance…

"Maybe their Quantum Suits failed," James Rhodes, otherwise known as Rhodey, said, breaking the silence. "Is that possible?"

"No way," Scott Lang said at once. "At least, I don't think so…ours worked just fine. Right? Nobody else had any malfunctions?"

"Maybe something went wrong with the particles of whatever. Didn't you say it was just enough for a round trip each?" Rocket said, the raccoon walking down the ramp along with Bruce to investigate the controls more thoroughly with Tony, even though there was nothing it could tell them.

"Things don't go wrong with the Pym Particles," Scott said, walking around in a small circle where the two should have appeared; as if he half expected them to still miraculously show up. "…I don't think they can, I never asked…I mean a particle can't go wrong. No, they should have been here. Try the machine again—"

"There's nothing to try," Tony said. He looked up at the others who were still descending the ramp, Nebula trailing behind the others, her face expressionless. "They're just…not coming."

"…That means we don't have the last stone," said Thor said slowly. He sat down on the bottom of the ramp, shaking his head as if he was not quite sure how to wrap his head around the revelation. One moment there had been an opportunity—a chance to undo everything terrible that had been done to the universe because of his incapability to kill Thanos. And now that chance was slipping away, just as it had five years ago. He raised his head, looking up at Tony. "What do we do now? These stones—without the last one they are useless! They were seeking the Soul Stone…"

"…And without it we can't bring back anyone who was lost," Rhodey muttered.

Rocket sank down against the side of the console beside him, shaking his head slowly. One step away from completion—they had the stupid gauntlet of their own sitting there, and they had the stones—all except for one. "So all of this was for nothing? You said we only had enough juice to go on a single trip apiece! Some gambit…we just blew it!" He closed his eyes tightly, willing reality to change. "We'll never see them again…"

"…Pym."

Rocket looked up as Tony muttered the single name. The genius was staring at something above his head; he turned, following the genius's gaze to Steve Rogers.

The man stood at the top of the ramp, slowly opening his hand to reveal the final gambit left to them. Vials of red fluid.

Pym Particles.

"What? Where? Where did you get those?" Scott frowned in confusion, then realization dawned on him. "No…so that's where you went! You went back in time and robbed from Pym? I don't even know how to feel about that…"

"Given the circumstances I don't think he'll care," Rhodey said to him. He started to walk back up the ramp, his faceplate already closing. "All right. Let's go look for them, Cap."

Steve shook his head, putting out a hand to stop Rhodey. "No. We already are missing two members. Only one person should go looking for them."

"And who would that be? You?" Bruce asked.

"Whoa whoa, why him?" Scott asked, and then he quickly raised a placating hand to forestall any arguments. "I mean, no offense, I know why, Captain, I mean, you are Captain America—but you don't know what they found on Vormir. You don't know if you can handle it, if they couldn't. They could have been…well…they might have…been killed."

"Which is another reason why we should only send one person," Steve said, an unreadable expression flickering across on his features. "We don't have an unlimited amount of Pym Particles. I know all of us want to go and find out what happened—bring them back home and retrieve the Soul Stone. But sending more than one person to Vormir when we don't even know what to expect—that could be worse than going in alone."

"But why you should you be the one to go back?" Rhodey persisted. "Why not any of us?"

"He can do it," Thor interrupted. He got to his feet, his eyes meeting Steve's. He smiled faintly, seeing something in his friend's eyes no one else could. "I know he can."

"Well, that's good enough for me," Rocket said, shrugging his shoulders. "We haven't got time to argue about who should go anyway. We've already waited five damn years, let's not wait any longer! So go, will ya?"

Steve nodded. He moved back onto platform of the Quantum Tunnel, watching as the others descended the ramp and left him. All except for Tony, who quickly bound back up the ramp. He lowered his voice as to not reach the others, pretending to check one final thing on Steve's Quantum Suit.

"You know, I'm beginning to think you like putting your life on the line, Rogers—"

He fell silent, looking down as Steve pressed one of the red vials into his hand.

"In case this doesn't work out."

"…Well, if it doesn't, then we'll try, try again. We may even draw lots to see who gets to go back in time and talk Pym into making more of these. And once we fill up our bags with these we'll all end up going to Vormir and it'll be this whole big thing, and you know I'm not really into space rumbles these days…they don't really end up that well in our favor…"

"Hey." Steve put a hand on the man's shoulder, making Tony lift his gaze to meet his eyes. "It'll turn out right, Tony."

Tony paused before he turned away. "…I hope so."

He went down the ramp, going back to the console where the others stood watching Steve. He put his hand on the lever, looking up at the lone man. "You'll be just minutes behind them." He hesitated as though he wanted to say more, but Steve spoke before he could.

"I'll find them," he promised. "And we will bring back the Soul Stone. Be ready."

Tony nodded at him, pausing only a second before pulling the lever.

Steve vanished.

It was a cold that reminded him of the Arctic.

Steve stood, taking in a breath of the frigid air, blinking against the dazzling light of the sun on the alien planet. The cold was the first thing he registered—and his mind automatically went back to that moment when the ship fell from the sky in 1944, his last thoughts going to Peggy, her words still echoing in his ears as he began to plummet.

"Don't you dare be late."

He blinked, the past slipping away. The world came back into focus, and he almost gasped at the sight that met his eyes.

He was no stranger to bizarre sights, but he had never seen a place so wide and empty before, so…barren and cold. Vormir was indeed vast, and standing in the middle of the bleak world all he could see were endless mountains and snow, lilac and blue clouds hanging low in the distance. To his left stood another giant mountain, its sheer cliffs jagged against the sky. But what caught his attention, out of everything around him, was the dark stab of color in the pale surroundings at the foot of that mountain.

Steve's suit shifted and turned back into the uniform he wore as Captain America as he walked towards the dark splotch, and he braced for the worst. Something stopped them from coming back, he thought as he walked forward. Maybe even a remnant of one of Thanos's armies…

But whether it was fate's design or chance, he did not find them; he found the ship.

As he neared he could see the Benatar was empty and undamaged, and upon even closer inspection, he spotted the trail of footprints that led towards the mountain from the ship. A faint feeling of relief ran through him when he saw no sign of battle, and he let out the breath he did not realize he was holding. They had landed safely, and nothing suggested that they had been under attack, or that they had run into anyone. Perhaps there had been a suit malfunction…or perhaps they had tried to go back further in time on the planet, and run into the same problem that Tony and Scott had met when trying to take the Space Stone the first time. But there was still a chance they were indeed alive, and that was all he needed to concentrate on for the moment.

He started to pass by the ship automatically on his way to follow the footsteps, but he stopped, looking at the long climb ahead of him, then back to the ship.

Abruptly, he switched directions and headed for the Benatar. Rocket had shown him how to fly it once, some years ago. Now he could put that one lesson to use.

He had only just climbed aboard the ship when a blinding flash lit the top of the mountain. He shaded his eyes with one hand as he turned to watch. A beam of white light seemed to fire up through the mountain towards the heavens, its light remaining even when the power behind the blast extinguished into nothingness. Slowly it began to fade, but Steve was not there to watch as it dimmed. He was climbing into the pilot's chair, a set frown on his face, an uneasy tightness in his chest.

Please don't be late, he thought as he brought the ship to life. Please don't be too late…

As the power surge originated from the bottom of the mountain before expelling into the skies, Steve did not fly the Benatar to the top of the mountain's cliffs. Instead, he piloted around the mass, eyes searching the rocks for any sign of a battle, or something that could explain the massive output of energy. More than that, he searched for a familiar redhead and her sword-toting friend, fearing the worse as more seconds ticked away.

After all, Natasha and Clint had no idea what to expect on Vormir. During the planning for the Time Heist, or whatever Scott Lang had taken to calling it, they questioned Nebula as thoroughly as they could. But all she could tell them was that Thanos and her sister Gamora went to the planet, and Thanos returned after murdering Gamora, the Soul Stone in his possession. Everything else about Vormir remained a mystery; what had prompted Thanos to murder his daughter, and where the stone was housed.

One of the reasons Natasha wanted to go to the mysterious Vormir was because they knew so little about it. Other locations were known, and could be planned for accordingly. But she would not send what remained of her team—her family—to an alien planet where unknown threats might lurk. Instead, she took that burden onto her own shoulders, and only nodded when Steve asked her if she was sure she wanted that mission.

Natasha Romanova.

If it had not been for her, Steve Rogers might never have picked himself back up after the colossal loss following Thanos's Snap. He'd lost Bucky too many times to count, and to have him turn to dust before his eyes…it had been a hard blow to accept. Then, unable to find Sam and confirming the worst had happened…it was like losing his family all over again. Both were his close friends—they were his brothers. Natasha had understood that, and even when she was so close to buckling under the pressure of leadership he had turned away from, she had been there for him, and he tried to pull himself together to be there for her.

Each comforting word he could offer to her always felt inadequate, though. She was the one who stood up after they failed and filled the void of the members they lost. She became the linchpin that tied them all together. What could he say to someone who held it together better than he could? All he could do was try to make sense of the shattered world Thanos had left behind, but the more he tried to pretend life still existed after the Snap, the more the world became numb to him.

Nothing he could do would ever erase the fact the losses had been too great. The failure of the entire enterprise weighed down on him each minute as he replayed each choice they had made, each battle they fought. Some people did move on after the Snap; some like Tony Stark were even able to start a family, find themselves something worth living for in the chaos. But how could he?

He already lost his half of his universe in 1944; now he had lost it again.

That was where she stepped in once again. Natasha was not content to let him walk away from the Avengers and drown in his apathy. She moved into the Compound, insisted he come as well to fill the depleted space. He had done so reluctantly, but she showed him that even though half the world was gone, and maybe they could never undo Thanos's work—there were people who still needed what protection the Avengers could give them.

More than that, she showed him that while he no longer felt himself capable of fulfilling the role of soldier, he could still help those who had survived the Snap. Helping people cope with a new reality and loss was something Sam had once done; now he had the opportunity to do the same, and help Sam's dream of helping others live on.

And it helped, to bring some spark of life back into others, even if he still rebelled against dealing with his own grief, connecting with the emotions he left buried in his heart. In his darker moments he still pondered whether it was all worth it. And when he began to think about the turn his life had taken, he would think about Natasha. Sometimes he felt in turning attention onto him, she was trying to make up for failing someone who had not been turned to dust…

He knew she blamed herself for what had happened to Barton, regretted not searching for him sooner, despite the fact she had left the battlefield the moment their friends turned to dust to look for him, to assure herself he was still amongst the living. Steve had been there the day she received a call from the archer; it had been a short, flat and cold conversation. Barton checked only to see if she still lived, to learn what caused the Snap. And upon learning when the fate of the universe was in the balance against Thanos, they had neglected to warn him and his family—he had hung up, and she never heard from him again.

It was the first time he ever saw the impassive Black Widow cry.

That had been the point he realized his own apathy towards the situation was hurting not only him, but her as well. She was one of the strongest women he had ever met—perhaps the strongest. But she needed someone to lean on in those dark days and he had been too wrapped up in ignoring his own grief and dealing with that of strangers to realize his only friend needed him, too.

He made a promise that day never to let her down again.

Which was why, when he caught sight of those misshapen forms at the foot of the cliff, his world shattered again when he realized he broke yet another promise to a woman he loved.

He found them.

Behind him, the hatch of the Benatar remained open as he left it. He had broken into a run across the rocky plain, conscious of nothing but the smell of blood hanging thickly in the air. Upon reaching them, he stopped dead in his tracks, unable to go forward, chest still heaving from his run. Even without the exertion, it already felt like he would never get his breath back.

They lay broken next to one another on the rocky ground, blood pooled under them, too fresh and too real. Their hands were outstretched, clasped between them as if during the fall they had reached out instinctively for security, and found one another.

He slowly went forward, crouching down beside her, reaching out a hand to check for a pulse he knew he would not find. He recoiled when his fingers met with her skin. She was still warm. Dear god, she was still warm. The fatal fall had only just happened—one minute sooner and he would have seen it.

"You'll be only a few minutes behind them."

"Oh Nat…" Unshed tears glinted in his eyes as he looked down at the peaceful, pale face, more tranquil now in death than she ever had been in life, lips upturned slightly as if she knew something he did not. She was keeping a secret still, even in death. Barton looked almost serene, his eyes closed, the troubles of life wiped away leaving behind a much more youthful face. The man could have been asleep…they both could have so easily been asleep and the fact they were not tore a new hole in Steve's chest. He sank down to his knees, one hand resting on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner."

After everything we lost…why did we have to lose the two of you? Why after everything—

He pushed down the thoughts harshly, struggling for control over the flood of emotions he had fought against for the last five years. Grief he'd kept bottled down since losing Bucky and Sam—god, all of the warriors he'd fought alongside and lost—threatened to rear its ugly head again to remind him of everything the battle against Thanos had already cost. Now there would be two more names to remember, two more faces to slowly forget as time crept on.

Barton…Natasha…

He closed his eyes, bowing his head, trying to find resolve to complete the mission when death stared him in the face, mocking all of them for trying to undo the Mad Titan's snap by costing them two more lives.

There was almost no point in—no. No, he refused to dishonor their sacrifices, even in his mind. Natasha and Clint gave their lives so the Soul Stone could be retrieved—the very stone which would restore life to the universe. They had not been able to complete their mission…but he would finish what they began. He got to his feet, turning back to the ship.

But he could not move. He could not tear himself away from their sides, leave them there splayed on the rocks; they deserved…oh god, they deserved so much more than to be forgotten in the desolate wasteland.

Blinking back tears, he crouched back down to move her first, tenderly brushing back the strand of red-white hair that fell over her eyelids, pausing to look down at her face one more time.

He remembered that she tried, at first, to look after her appearance. Then she began to wear the same clothes, day after day, finding changing to be too much of an added effort when she had so much to do already. And as the months went on, she began to neglect her hair as well, letting her natural red grow back, leaving the ends white. She had been almost ashamed of how she has let her physical appearance deteriorate, but when she mentioned it to him, he confided in her that if had not been for the serum regulating his fitness, he would have been about fifty pounds heavier. More than that, if it had not been for the fact he needed to face others at the therapy sessions looking as though he had some pride left, he might have not even bothered to shave or get a haircut.

"I don't know how you do it, Natasha. How you make living look interesting again."

She smiled at him when he told her that. It was her real smile, the one she shared with few people. But she had shared it with him, and it had meant the world to him that he had been able to cheer her up, if even for a moment.

Undeterred by the blood that met his hands he started to lift her up, stopping suddenly when something glinted in the corner of his eye. He turned his head, surprised to see a strange, faint glow coming from between their fingers. Glancing at both of their still faces, he let go of her slowly. Kneeling down fully between them, he took hold of their hands, and delicately pulled apart their interlaced fingers.

He gasped softly.

In the middle of their hands, the Soul Stone glowed dimly in the light.

He reached down and took the stone from their hands, turning it over in his fingers. It was warm, like a drop of sunlight. It was beautiful and yet, knowing both had lost their lives to retrieve it, terrible.

He closed his hand over it and slipped it into his pocket, looking down at the two of them, a smile trembling on his lips as realization dawned on him. With the Soul Stone, they could bring back those who had been taken by Thanos—and surely it could be used on them as well, bring them back to life—

They had not lost, after all.

"You did it," he murmured, his vision blurring. He reached up, brushing the moisture away with the back of his hand. "You did it. We'll bring back everyone because of what you gave today. You hear?"

He reached down and put Natasha's hand back into Barton's, pressing them together gently.

"I will be back for you," he promised quietly. "And when I come back you'll know we won."

He rose, just as the voice spoke.

"Welcome Steven…son of Sarah."

Steve whipped around at the sound of the voice, rising to a low crouch, already prepared for a fight. Adrenaline surged through his body in preparation, even as a memory flashed through his mind, telling him he recognized that voice, that accent—

No, he thought. It's impossible.

The figure that stood behind him was completely dressed in black, its hood obscuring the face from sight. But as the head lifted and the folds fell back, Steve instantly recognized the lack of a face all too well.

Johann Schmidt; the Red Skull.

"So you're the one behind this. I would've thought you'd be dead by now," Steve said in a hard voice, not moving from where he stood.

"I am not the only being to have lived past the time allotted to me, Steve Rogers," the Red Skull replied, a touch of disdain in his voice.

If Steve had his shield, he already would have thrown it without waiting for the Red Skull to answer him. The Nazi had used one of the stones in the past to in the attempt to create weapons of mass destruction; he would not put it past him to have been trying the same experiments in this barren place. The energy beam to the sky had to come from somewhere, and something had caused Natasha and Clint to fall. He was already bracing himself to leap forward at his enemy when the creature spoke again.

"I have been on this planet for over seventy years, Steve Rogers," the Red Skull said, watching him impassively. "The first years I still dreamt of revenge, as it appears you still do. Now I hardly know the meaning of the word. You may attack me if you desire, but it will do no good to either of us. I was cursed to be the guide to the power you hold in your possession; and until the day it is taken from here I cannot leave this place…nor can I be harmed."

Steve hesitated, finding no reason to disbelieve what the pitiful creature before him said. But there was no reason to believe him, either. He had seen the lies he had concocted first hand, the chaos he had brought to the world in his search for power.

"What happened to them?" he asked, not attacking for the moment. "What did you do?"

"I did nothing but guide them to the stone's location. They made the decision to pay the price."

"What do you mean they paid the price?" Steve demanded, slowly rising out of his crouch.

"To claim the Stone, one must give up what they love most…a soul…for a soul."

"You mean…a sacrifice?" Steve's eyes widened as he realized what the Red Skull meant. Even as the creature nodded he was shaking his head in denial. "They wouldn't have—"

"And yet they did. That flash of light you witnessed was the stone taking a soul. It used that soul to give itself a physical form…and now that it has been given in payment for the Stone…it may never be revived."

Steve looked away for a moment. When he turned back, his eyes had darkened, and the look of cold hatred on his face was enough to make the Red Skull take a few steps back. "No…no, you were the one responsible. If they had been forced to kill the other, one would still be alive. They wouldn't be here like this! Someone had to push them over the edge—and the only living thing I see around here is you—"

He leapt forward—but before his fist could even smash through the wraith, it disintegrated as though it were not even there, rematerializing feet away. Steve grit his teeth, pushing off the side of the cliff as he went for his enemy again; this time it did not move, but he sailed through it as though it did not even exist. He rolled upright on the other side, the creature turning slowly to face him.

"I have no powers here but those that the stone has granted me as its keeper. I have already warned you of the futility of attacking, but by all means, Captain…leap at me all day if that is what you wish. I believe you once told me…you can do this all day?"

The faint mocking tone did not get a rise out of Rogers, as the Red Skull dimly hoped it might. Instead, the soldier slowly straightened, anger replaced by grief as the cold truth set in. The Red Skull began to turn away, pausing long enough to deliver one final message.

"I will explain one last mystery to you, Captain…as one old friend to another. They did not fall from the cliff…they jumped."

The Red Skull vanished from sight. Steve only stared at where he had been, slowly dropping to his knees as his mind reeled at the Red Skull's revelation.

They jumped.

In his mind, he could see the moment as they arrived at the cliff's edge. The moment they learned the truth behind the retrieval of the stone…

The fate of half the universe—of Barton's own family—lay on their shoulders.

They would have done anything.

And when faced with that horrible decision, knowing they had to sacrifice the other for the stone to be retrieved—knowing, that if they walked away and returned empty-handed, others would go in their place—they did what had to be done.

But they could not sacrifice half of their universe for a second time. So there, on the edge of the cliff, they made the decision to make the ultimate payment as one.

And because of that decision, they could never be revived…even with the Soul Stone.

Steve slowly pulled the object that cost both their lives from his pocket, staring down at the golden stone that glowed dully in his hand, his original thought when he saw first saw it coming back to him.

Beautiful…and terrible.

He wept.

A/N: * This story was written to the following songs: Valkyrie (2008) Soundtrack - I'm Sorry, and Oblivion Soundtrack – I'm Sending You Away (although let it be noted, a song that fits the aftermath of Thanos's Snap is the song Fleurie – Hurts Like Hell)

* I did not make Steve remember Barton as he did Romanova because honestly I don't think that they were that close, and he had been missing for five years as he took on his "Ronin" persona.

* Thanks for commenting and following this story; sorry it took awhile to work out the second chapter! Please, if you spot any errors, please tell me; I'll try to fix them as soon as possible.